


raining from a hapless cloud

by singlemalter



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Bible Quotes, Blasphemy, Church Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-31 02:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlemalter/pseuds/singlemalter
Summary: Charles and Lewis visit a place in Monaco.





	raining from a hapless cloud

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Charles. Blasphemy abound.

After vespers, nobody is around anymore; it’s just the two of them, cloaked in the dim light of the golden chandeliers.

“Saint Charles of Monte Carlo, huh,” Lewis says eventually, legs crossed where he’s sitting in the front pew.

Charles laughs to himself, a quiet little huff, and thinks of ways he can explain the flattery of seeing people kneel in a place of worship which bears your name. This church is special to him—it feeds his heretic pride in the most convoluted way. “We are all alone,” he says instead, fingertips ghosting over the Christogram engraved in the marble shrine. Turning to face Lewis, he holds out a hand in coy invitation.

Slowly, Lewis rises to his feet and walks towards Charles, crowding him between a row of votive candles and a pietà. He dips two fingers into the stoup next to the statue, raising them to Charles’ forehead to do the sign of the cross on his skin, holy water mixing with sweat. There’s an addictive type of intimacy that comes with blessing someone, and it burns low in Lewis’ stomach.

They meet halfway in a wet, open-mouthed kiss; Charles’ lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, milk and honey under his tongue, and Lewis holds him by the waist, firm enough to leave bruises. The frantic rhythm is too much for Charles, and he shakily reaches for something to steady himself, holding on to the Saint Mary’s carefully sculpted robes. 

“Oh, God,” Lewis blasphemes, cradling Charles’ face to pin him against the wall. “We need to stop.”

“Please,” Charles says, despondent and treacherous, his half-lidded eyes heavy with arousal. He parts his thighs slightly, taking Lewis’ hand and guiding it between his legs. “Please, I want you to.”

Lewis glances around nervously, his breath hitching at the sight of Charles, debauched, precariously balanced on the Blessed Virgin. “This is messed up,” he says, but stays right where he is. No matter how dedicated, devotees are just that—weak, vulnerable, ultimately human.

He gives in, then, and tugs Charles’ jeans and underwear down, exposing his swollen dick. Charles throws his head back, looking up at the frescoes that cover the ceiling, and begs Lewis to _keep going, please, God_.

Unexpectedly, Lewis sinks to his knees and takes Charles’ cock into his mouth, more eager than anyone ought to be when giving a blowjob in a small church.

“Oh,” Charles gasps, so overstimulated he shivers under Lewis’ fingertips, and he thinks of all the times he’d hidden away here, heart full of grief and confusion, attracting parishioners’ gazes every time he choked on a sob. These days are long gone; he’s another person, now, holiest of churchgoers, best of drivers, strongest of men.

Lewis pulls off, saliva glistening on his chin. “I want you to come for me,” he says, low and hoarse.

Charles gives him what he wants. How could he not? This is his salvation; the crown of thorns is upon him, and he’s about to atone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Slow Hands_ by Interpol: “When the loving that you've wasted comes raining from a hapless cloud and I might stop and look upon your face, disappear in the sweet, sweet gaze; see the living that surrounds me dissipate in a violet place.”
> 
> Saint Charles de Monte-Carlo is actually a real church in Monaco.
> 
> _Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue_ from the horniest part of the Bible, Song of Solomon.
> 
> Don’t tell me Lewis isn’t Catholic. Poetic license.
> 
> singlemalter on Tumblr.


End file.
